TW 9

Chapter 9

Most of the children in this neighborhood were, so to speak, children from wealthy families. But Han Hae-il was on an entirely different level even among them.

His father, Han Mu-jae, was a giant of the IT industry who had built a legend in a remarkably short period of time, as well as an innovation icon who drew the most attention from Korea’s business world.

Unlike the third- and fourth-generation heirs of chaebol families who had inherited their wealth through generations, Hae-il was the second generation of a kingdom that had only just risen to the very top.

As LD’s reputation and stock price continued to soar, Han Hae-il, the only son of the company’s founder, naturally attracted just as much public attention.

Among the countless children born to privileged parents, he stood out as an unmistakably unique presence.

It couldn’t be explained in words.

You simply felt it.

Ah. This kid is going to be the most successful person for the rest of his life.

He’s going to live in a completely different world from me forever.

And yet, for whatever whim of his, that very person had started sitting beside Danbi.

The reason was the same as in the cafeteria.

Although the classroom had individual desks rather than assigned pairs, during breaks Suhyeon’s group would wander around Danbi’s desk, chatting noisily. Apparently, the sound irritated Hae-il.

Suhyeon clearly seemed conscious of Hae-il. He only glanced at Danbi now and then instead of approaching her as blatantly as before.

With just a single trace of Hae-il’s irritation, Danbi’s world had once again regained its peace and quiet.

“You……………… don’t get along with them?”

“Who?”

“Um. Lee Suhyeon’s group.”

One day, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer, Danbi asked him.

Without taking his eyes off his textbook, he answered indifferently.

“They’re beneath my level. I don’t want to deal with them.”

His low voice was steeped in blatant contempt for anything that annoyed him.

The moment she heard those words, Danbi unconsciously hunched her shoulders.

She realized that she, too, was probably nowhere near his “level.”

And there was also the unmistakable boundary he had drawn so casually.

From what Danbi observed, aside from the intense 500,000-won reward for the pencil case incident when they first met, Hae-il’s school life was surprisingly textbook-perfect.

He studied diligently, spent time with his friends, and didn’t cause any particular trouble.

Just having Hae-il sitting beside her was enough for Danbi’s terrible loneliness to gradually fade.

When he studied, Danbi studied too.

When his friends came over and started chatting, she listened in on their conversations.

Economic trends at home and abroad.

Strategies for university admissions.

Even a newly discovered asteroid that had recently made the news.

Whenever she listened to them, she would eventually find that the hand solving her problems had stopped moving.

Her direct conversations with Hae-il could be counted on one hand.

Yet somewhere in Danbi’s heart, a one-sided sense of familiarity with him had quietly begun to grow.

And the more familiar she felt with him, the more courage she found to speak to him.

“Um……………… you know.”

“What?”

“What did the teacher just say? I couldn’t hear.”

“He said the test is only going to cover what he just checked.”

His tone was hardly gentle, but whenever she asked him something, he always answered.

“Uh……………… I’m sorry, but where’s that range?”

When she carefully asked again, he silently pointed to a section of the textbook he had open.

At the neatly trimmed tip of his finger was the answer she wanted.

Pages 17–66.

He looked thoroughly annoyed, but he answered every question she asked without leaving anything out.

To Danbi, who was treated like an invisible person by her classmates, that meant a great deal.

Having even one person she could communicate with gave her daily life a tiny opening through which she could breathe.

“Thank you.”

At her quiet voice filled with genuine gratitude, Hae-il gave no particular response and simply turned his attention back to his textbook.

As physical education class was coming to an end, the teacher in charge generously decided to use the remaining time for dodgeball.

The girls voluntarily got themselves hit, calling out things like,

“Hey, throw gently. Gently.”

Danbi, meanwhile, was hit by a ball that had ricocheted off another student’s body and was eliminated by a double hit.

As the students who weren’t particularly interested in the game voluntarily got themselves eliminated, eventually only the boys with good athletic abilities remained.

Hae-il was among them.

“Good grief, my stomach……………… Did I eat something bad? You guys finish up among yourselves. I’m going to the bathroom for a minute.”

The teacher, who had been acting as referee, clutched his stomach and hurried out of the gymnasium.

With the person in charge gone, the court was soon filled with loud cheers and frantic movement.

Danbi stood blankly outside the boundary line, watching the game.

With only the skilled players left, the match had become surprisingly exciting.

The dull thud of balls striking bare skin.

The children’s explosive cheers.

The heat rising from the court.

Among them, Suhyeon and Hae-il stood out the most.

As expected, Suhyeon dominated the court with overwhelming strength and agility.

The balls he threw were practically cannonballs. Whether boys or girls, anyone hit by one screamed and left the game.

Fortunately for Danbi, she was on the same team as Suhyeon, so she didn’t have to experience one of his murderous throws firsthand.

At first, Hae-il barely touched the ball and moved rather passively.

But once only boys remained on the opposing team, he finally began to move.

When Danbi had first come to recognize him because of the pencil case incident, she had assumed that he considered everything in the world beneath him and would approach everything half-heartedly.

But he was the exact opposite.

Whether it was studying, relationships with his classmates, or even a trivial game during leftover class time, he never did anything carelessly.

When he lightly caught a ball flying through the air and twisted his body before throwing it, the ball struck an opponent directly in the arm.

Cheers erupted from every direction.

Watching in a daze, Danbi herself let out a small,

“Oh………………”

Then, while she was absentmindedly watching the game, a yellow dodgeball suddenly came flying toward her.

It was a powerful pass, so strong that she could vividly feel the hard, rough surface of the ball against her palm.

Danbi caught it reflexively and looked up in surprise.

Inside the court, Suhyeon was pointing toward her with a jerk of his chin.

“Danbi! Throw it hard! Take them all out!”

Suhyeon shouted loudly enough for his voice to echo throughout the gymnasium.

It was an order.

In an instant, every gaze inside and outside the court focused on Danbi holding the ball.

Not knowing what to do, she hesitated awkwardly.

Then Suhyeon pointed in a particular direction with his finger.

At the end of that direction stood Hae-il.

Hae-il was on the opposing team, and from the moment Danbi caught the ball, he had simply stood there without moving.

Even if she threw it, eliminating Hae-il would be nearly impossible.

He would probably catch the ball effortlessly or dodge it.

And even if there were a chance of hitting him, she didn’t want to be the one to eliminate him with her own hands.

Danbi glanced at Suhyeon.

He was still staring at her without taking his eyes away, tilting his chin as if telling her to throw it quickly.

It was silent pressure.

In the end, Danbi chose passive evasion.

“I……………… I’m not good at throwing.”

She muttered in a voice barely louder than a mosquito and weakly passed the ball to the nearest member of her own team.

It was in the exact opposite direction from where Hae-il stood.

At that moment, she clearly heard Suhyeon click his tongue.

“Tch.”

His expression openly showed his displeasure at Danbi’s choice.

Could that one ball have contained some meaning she didn’t understand?

Suhyeon stared at Danbi for a moment before moving again to avoid the ball that had begun flying around the court.

Danbi took another step backward and looked alternately between Suhyeon and Hae-il.

It felt as though some kind of emotional current she couldn’t understand was flowing through this space.

She had only been caught in that current for a moment, yet she already felt exhausted.

Danbi simply wanted this period to end as soon as possible.

She wanted to escape the loud noise, the overheated air, and this somewhat violent game.

As the game progressed, the outcome became increasingly obvious.

Suhyeon’s team would probably win.

There were more skilled boys on his team to begin with, so the balls came flying faster and harder.

The ball flew frantically from one person to another.

Then Suhyeon threw it with all his strength toward Hae-il, who had not yet settled into position.

The ball shot toward Hae-il in a straight line.

There was no time to dodge.

Thud!

With a heavy impact that cut through the air, the ball slammed directly into Hae-il’s face.

For a moment, absolute silence descended, as though every sound in the gymnasium had evaporated.

A moment later, the only sound breaking the silence was the ball dropping helplessly to the floor and rolling away.

Hae-il stood motionless for a while, clutching the place where he had been hit.

The heated air of the court instantly turned cold as ice.

Even when Suhyeon’s throws hit someone’s body, they packed a tremendous impact.

If one hit you in the face, it must have hurt unimaginably badly.

Danbi grimaced as she imagined the impact.

She felt as though her own face were throbbing.

She tried to check Hae-il’s condition from a distance, but the children who had rushed toward him quickly blocked her view.

Eventually, Hae-il, who was a head taller than the other children, lifted his head.

Only then could Danbi clearly see his bare face without his glasses.

She instinctively looked around, searching for where his missing glasses had gone.

At that moment, one of Hae-il’s friends shouted angrily.

“Hey! Hitting someone in the face is against the rules!”

“Ah, sorry. My hand slipped.”

Suhyeon shrugged and apologized half-heartedly.

There wasn’t even the slightest trace of sincerity in his words.

Hae-il let out a deep sigh.

Anyone could see that he was suppressing his anger.

Danbi’s eyes became even more frantic as she searched for his glasses.

Finally, she spotted them at Suhyeon’s feet.

They must have fallen when the ball hit Hae-il, then been kicked and pushed along the floor by the feet of the children who had gathered around him.

Danbi didn’t hesitate.

She was just about to bend down toward the glasses—

when a shadow fell over them.

A heavy sneaker entered her field of vision.

And then—

Crack!

The shoe came down directly on the glasses.

The sharp sound of the frame snapping and the lenses shattering pierced Danbi’s ears in a chilling way.

What on earth is happening?

Confused, Danbi raised her head.

Her eyes met Suhyeon’s.

He was looking down at her with an expression she couldn’t understand.

Then he took his gaze away from Danbi and looked toward Hae-il.

In the same indifferent tone as before, he said,

“Ah, sorry. My foot slipped.”